


The Interviews

by Eclectic_Clutter



Category: The Last Remnant
Genre: Hope it's not too dry!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 03:51:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12356850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eclectic_Clutter/pseuds/Eclectic_Clutter
Summary: My first attempt at writing a fic.Well I wondered how the Seven were found and figured probably through some less than professional interviews. Maybe I'll put more parts if I ever think this can become worth anything. Thanks if you read this.





	The Interviews

Hundreds of miles under the earth laid a vast network of natural tunnels called the Malumigi. They were so far underground that the glow of miner's lamps was the only light to ever enter these pathways; however, the twisted nature of these tunnels frustrated any significant exploration. Even wind did not penetrate this far down into the ground. This stillness of air created an almost nightmarish level of silence, broken only by the occasional crackle as very the weight of the world above pressed itself onto the red rock of these tunnels. Combined with the smothering heat and pockets of absolute darkness that laid within, the Malumigi had the feel of a place almost unsuitable for life. In fact, the Malumigi were devoid of life, not even monsters claimed these caves for their home – the sheer absence of fresh air, light or sound in most of the tunnels unsettled any creature's mind and killed them slowly. 

However, at this moment, for once, the sound of several footsteps echoed their way through the caverns. 

These footsteps came from a small procession moving down the tunnels. Near the lead of this group was a fairly muscular man, almost completely dressed in red, with long, faded blonde hair, a faint beard to match and a scowling face. He marched with a slightly hunched posture and kept his fists tightly clenched. 

A much older man was to his left, holding a large, black fan. This one wore a puffed service cap and an extremely long, almost ceremonial looking, white robe that flowed into a pool of cloth that covered his feet. This man kept a slower, more composed walking pace, staying just a few steps behind the man in red. 

To the right of the man-in-red was a young woman with a faint frown. She wore only portions of purple armour: none on her arms, armoured leggings that cut off at her upper thighs, a small helmet, with long, blonde hair escaping from underneath, and a breastplate with an attached collar. She also wore a chainmail undershirt and a pair of well-worn, thin, leather boots. As she walked she would casually take a step with crossed arms and then let her eyes wander for a half second before taking another step.

Lagging behind her was another man, this one much younger than the other two. He had much darker skin than the others, white hair in a braided mohawk, a stern look on his face, and wore a black garb that cloaked his body. He kept his hands busy by tossing a shiny and elegant small rock up and down, as though weighing it or judging its clear value, striding forward in short, energetic steps.

Surrounding these five were six men in black gowns each of which holding a lantern. The two in the front had each of their lanterns at the end of long, wooden rods to better light the path.   
The man in red focused his eyes on carefully scanning the path ahead and without bothering to make eye contact he started talking. 

"How many of them did you find Wagram?"

"Seven, Lord Conqueror," answered the old man in white. "I extensively used my forces to seek out the strongest fighters and, of that group, to find ones willing to fight or be bought for our cause."

"Bought?!" the young woman chimed. She turned her head to the old man, "So is that where our tributes from the last few towns have disappeared to?" She asked as she threw her hands up, "Paying for some second-rate mercenaries with no loyalty for our cause?!" 

The aged man closed his one good eye before taking a mental sigh. "These are elite warriors who can wipe out armies single handedly. I doubt that if you were that skilled that you would be so eager to give your services away for free." 

She narrowed her eyes at the clear insult, "If they knew a fraction of how important our duty is then their characters wouldn't be worth much if they demanded pay!"

The becloaked man, still single-handedly juggling the gorgeous one-of-a-kind rock, sped to catch up to her, "And that's why they're just acting as distractions, Roeas," he quickly said. 

"Exactly." Wagram nodded at this statement, he was relieved that at least someone was willing to bring some reasoning into this issue. 

"Anyway," he continued, "once these warriors were found, I sent out some Homunculus to the general location of each. All of them survived the attacks and managed to defeat the Homunculus."

Roeas rolled her eyes at this achievement, "Tch, small task really."

"Roeas," echoed a low tone from behind her. 

"What Jager?!" she responded, "If the true measure of these 'elite warriors' is how many Homunculus they can kill then we'd be better off with just using our ordinary troops! They'd be much cheaper at least." 

Wagram shook his head, "These Homunculus were not the ordinary type." He turned his eye towards her, "They were rare breeds that even you, General Roeas, would have trouble dispensing."

Roeas silently glared at Wagram for a minute before turning her attention back to the pathway, apparently deciding this fight was not worth it.

Satisfied with this small victory, Wagram attempted to finish his report, "I then managed to persuade each of them to work for us. Money, the allure of war, the promise of authority, the appeal of a grand job, and your Lord's reputation all helped to secure these fighters," he finished off with finally.

Still refusing to turn his head from the path ahead, the Conqueror questioned Wagram again, "Have you assigned each of them an advisor yet?" 

"Yes, they are all dependent on us for their flow of communications from now on."

Jager narrowed his eyes at that remark.

The group then paused at a small opening in the middle of an otherwise dead-end. 

"Stay on guard," commanded the Conqueror. And so, each of the men in black gowns remained behind whilst the rest of the group proceeded through the opening. 

On the other side of the opening was a small cavern, just big enough to hold about ten people. The heat of the tunnels was intensified in this room, the glowing nature of the soft rock that the room was made from reinforced this sensation. At the opposite end of the room was another small opening, which was lit through. 

"The first one we're about to meet was found in the town of Luce del Mondo," Wagram announced to the group, "While the Homunculus we unleashed were destroying the rest of the town, in a certain part of the town we found an almost perfect circle, with a radius of about ten meters, covered in blood and corpses." 

The group's attention was now fully focused on Wagram, "Inside that circle were townspeople and monsters alike. And near the centre of this circle was a giggling Sovani, sitting on the edge of the roof of a building and watching the chaos ensue in the rest of the town." 

Jager raised an eyebrow at that. Roeas meanwhile was shifting her body a bit, frustrated by the heat and her body's excessive sweat in response. 

"He was very thorough," Wagram continued, "all the victims were slashed from head to toe in one line and the blood splatters seemed very deliberately placed," he said whilst softly tapping the end of his fan against his palm. 

"The first few men I sent to talk to him were killed effortlessly. Granted, they were just researchers I had brought with me. However, it was still impressive. And so, we waited until the townspeople were almost completely slaughtered, and the remaining Homunculus were quelled by intervening Melphina forces. At this point, the Sovani, seemingly bored and preparing to leave, became receptive to normal conversation, and we managed to hire him."

“Are you sure he’s…’on the level’?” asked Jager.

"Well, he is strong, and the only thing we'll need him to do is stand back and kill when ordered to. So I don't think his sanity will be much of an issue," Wagram replied. 

"Very well then," the Conqueror said, "bring him in."

"Bring in the first one!" yelled Roeas.

And in through the opening entered a very pale Sovani with striking, red eyes. He had green markings on his four arms and face, thick dreads, and doubly pierced ears. He was dressed in his variation of the uniform the mercenaries were given: a slim fitting grey vest, black trousers and long black boots. 

He leaned forward with an amused smirk and quickly scanned the people gathered before him. His eyes soon settled on the beautiful rock Jager was still playing with, his pupils bobbing up and down. The rock shimmered in marvelous hues as it joyfully bounced up and down. 

Then with a sudden head cock and dramatic finger raise he said, “Splendid! You planning something with that?”

“Hmm?” Jager glanced lazily at the Sovani, “What? You worried I might throw at you or something?”

“No, no, not at all! It’s too wonderful for that!” he replied in a light tone, quickly raised his top pair of arms in a mock playful manner. 

Jager seemed clearly confused by that comment, as was Roeas, “It’s…just a rock” she whispered.

“Just, don’t poke out my eye with that, ok? Or I may have to take one of yours out,” giggling slightly afterwards.   
For an instant, Jager felt a twinge of murderous intent from the mercenary, he broke into a wicked grin, “Don’t tempt me, I’ve got a mean throw,”

"Ha ha! I will remember that," came a much more threatening sounding reply, with a lowering of his arms as he stared down the young man, who returned the sentiment. 

"What is your name Sovani?" asked the Conqueror, ignoring the clash of wills in front of him. 

"Snievan," he said whilst slowly turning his head, and at even slower pace his eye contact, towards the Conqueror.

"Wagram told me about how he contacted and recruited you. What is it that you are hoping to acquire from this all?"

A short chuckle was the only response as Snievan turned his head down, followed by almost a minute of silence. After this pause, he slowly turned his head back up and said, "I want to see the world remade into something more...beautiful."

Jager reacted to this by leaning against the wall and then instantly bouncing off once he realised how hot it was. Wagram hid an indifferent face behind his fan and, Roeas simply rolled her eyes. The Conqueror merely stared back at the Sovani in silent response. 

After lightly rubbing his arm, Jager asked, "What’s that even mean?"

"Oh? Ha, you wouldn't understand."

Jager gripped his spectacular rock tightly, tapping it on his thigh, "…Try me."

The mercenary sighed, "Well," he started off, "what I mean is..." he briefly continued before falling into deep thought, closing his eyes. "This world, it's so ugly, don't you think?" he said decidedly, opening his eyes and peering at the knight. "It's full of barbarians, who have no appreciation of the beauty of things; charlatans, who run empires and kingdoms that encourage these barbarians; and fools, who walk around over confident of their skills whilst they actually add nothing to the world." 

He paused briefly, letting his words sink into his audience. Roeas continued shuffling uncomfortably and even Wagram started waving his fan in a vain attempt at cooling off. Jager, meanwhile, was starting to regret the cloak.   
Snievan then closed his eyes again and sighed, "These types of people really disappoint me. And so, since beautifying the world with these philistines roaming about would impossible, I think instead these lands should be decorated with their corpses...and dyed with their blood. There is real beauty in combat, and especially in death. After all, even a hideous monster can die beautifully if killed properly." He smiled as though lost in a daydream. 

"Combat, blood, death. These are the things that bring the most beauty out of the filthy, common masses. The boring father who works as a fruit seller, the tired grandmother ungracefully wasting away her days, the dull son whose only dream is to not be poor in life. These kinds of people make me glad that I am who I am, and so if I have a chance to thank these people, in whatever way I can, I'll take it." He dramatically clenched an outreached fist, "And if there is a way that I can find someone who can grant me the power to get rid of the philistines of this earth, then I will take that opportunity as well," he concluded, serenely closing his eyes again and smiling at the prospect.

“Well, you’re…real…uhh…cheery” Roeas said, fidgeting slightly to find a comfortable stance. 

The Conqueror took a step forward, "And so you wish to simply kill all those you deem unnecessary?"

"Even more than that, if they can't all appreciate true beauty, then they can all just die. I'll just experience the solitary joys that the world's aesthetics can offer me and that I can offer it. I'll renovate kingdoms, and I'll rework empires into a form that pleases me."

"Isn't he perfect?" Wagram said

Roeas had finally decided on an arms-flat-down stance after struggling with the heat, "Do we really have to go through six more of these?! Some of us are dying here!"

As she said this, Jager’s eye-catching rock slipped from his sweaty hand mid-catch sliding towards Snievan’s head, who effortlessly dodged it letting it dazzlingly sail straight through the air leaving a shimmering trail as it flew out the interviewee’s opening making a soft thud.

“Ow!”

“Uuuh, my bad.” Jager replied sheepishly in tone audible only to the people in the room. Snievan slowly turned his head away from the source of the yell. 

“…That almost hit my eye…”

Jager didn’t respond to this though, his main concern was if it would be poor manners to ask for his rock back or whether he should just grab it himself.

"Yes Roeas, we'll have to talk to all of the warriors that I hired," Wagram finally replied.

"That...sucks," she said. 

Turning the attention back to the matter at hand, the Conqueror talked to Snievan again, "Hmm, very well, you will get the opportunity to kill all those that displease you."

The Sovani broke into a smile, "Ha ha ha ha ha," he was ready to fall into a laughing fit, but caught himself in an attempt to keep his composure, "Thank you Lord Conqueror," and with that, he left the room.

**Author's Note:**

> So that's the first part I guess...any constructive criticism is appreciated!


End file.
